Mister S̶c̸r̸a̷t̶c̸h̷ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tolduimapsycho) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-10-01 10:41 am
tolduimapsycho) wrote in thecapitol2014-10-01 10:41 am
Entry tags:
[OPEN] Don't switch the blade on the guy in shades, oh no....
Who| Mister Scratch and YOU.
What| There's a new guy in town. He's going SHOPPING.
Where| Every clothing and accessory shop in the Capitol.
When| After the Arena.
Warnings| Language, crude talk, and a creepy serial killer.
It's always a pretty sudden thing, isn't it? When out of nowhere, there's a new body in the district, a new face trying to adjust to the cruel reality that they have been thrown into. Some people hide. Cry. Try to pretend that none of it is going to happen to them, not really.
...And then there's this asshole.
A tall, dark figure is roaming through town, through every single shop - trying on and buying every pair of sunglasses that he likes (and some he doesn't), leaving a bunch of very confused shop clerks in his wake. A pair of glasses for every occasion, every outfit - he just rolls into store after store, chipper as can be, pulling glasses on and then unceremoniously throwing them into piles.
Just as he's trying on a pair, he spots you - and he approaches, a bounce in his step, a grin on his face. He doesn't care what you look like, who you are, what you were trying to do - no matter what, he addresses you, pointing at himself.
"What do you think of these? Good? Bad? I mean, none of these can look BAD on me, but eh, some are more shit than others."
He's not gonna leave you alone until you answer him.
What| There's a new guy in town. He's going SHOPPING.
Where| Every clothing and accessory shop in the Capitol.
When| After the Arena.
Warnings| Language, crude talk, and a creepy serial killer.
It's always a pretty sudden thing, isn't it? When out of nowhere, there's a new body in the district, a new face trying to adjust to the cruel reality that they have been thrown into. Some people hide. Cry. Try to pretend that none of it is going to happen to them, not really.
...And then there's this asshole.
A tall, dark figure is roaming through town, through every single shop - trying on and buying every pair of sunglasses that he likes (and some he doesn't), leaving a bunch of very confused shop clerks in his wake. A pair of glasses for every occasion, every outfit - he just rolls into store after store, chipper as can be, pulling glasses on and then unceremoniously throwing them into piles.
Just as he's trying on a pair, he spots you - and he approaches, a bounce in his step, a grin on his face. He doesn't care what you look like, who you are, what you were trying to do - no matter what, he addresses you, pointing at himself.
"What do you think of these? Good? Bad? I mean, none of these can look BAD on me, but eh, some are more shit than others."
He's not gonna leave you alone until you answer him.
no subject
Still, sure enough, compulsion pulled him forward. It was fine if he just did this, right? Wasn't a big motherfucking deal or anything.
He starts carefully putting each tossed pair of sunglasses away, neat and tidy, until he's put a fair dent in the pile.
He raises his head upon the question. Me mutters, "I ain't a motherfucking stylist, brother, you're looking at for the wrong motherfucker what to ask."
no subject
In a flash, the dark presence was leaning over the stranger, ripping off the sunglasses he was wearing to glare at him.
"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa - what do you think you're doing, asshole? I'm shopping here."
no subject
Still, he doesn't straighten himself up just yet.
"SORRY," He says without sounding like he means it. "Were you buying all of these?"
no subject
"Maybe I am," he barks, tilting his head to one side and putting his hands on his hips in mock-outrage. "I'm still deciding. You're fucking with my organization."
no subject
"ORGANIZATIONALS? That so. AIGHT. So long as they is going back after, yeah?"
no subject
...It's not really about the glasses anymore.
Scratch just kind of wants to fuck with this guy.
"But I had them arranged JUST SO. Could you put back the ones you put away? Thanks, dude."
no subject
He's not an avox anymore. He doesn't have to do as what this motherfucker up and motherfucking tells him.
"FINE."
He goes, but all the while he imagines shattering each one in front of the man's face. He can't do that to the avoxes though.
no subject
He even laughs at him, soft and dark.
no subject
"Oh but, won't you motherfucking help? CAN'T KNOW EXACT AS HOW YOU ARRANGED THEM, AFTER MOTHERFUCKING ALL. Can't be all as to knowing exactly just so they was."
no subject
"...Nope."
no subject
He lifts his brows.
“WHEN YOU MAKE AT FOR YOUR BUSINESS JUST SO, DON’T SUPPOSE YOU PUT THEM ON BACK AFTERWAYS?”
no subject
"What. The fuck. Are you trying to say? It's like you're putting words in a blender and reading them in the order they come out."
no subject
"I'm saying you're fucking with me," He says. "AND I'M SAYING AT YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELF."
no subject
"Well, duh, yeah, I'm fucking with you. It's pretty easy, man. And sure, I'll fuck myself too - just maybe not here. We're in public. Can get arrested for that kind of thing."
no subject
But he's got nothing. He's not even got any means of threat.
"And what a tragedy that would up and be," He says. Then he shrugs his shoulders. "SUPPOSE WE'S BEING DONE HERE THEN. Good fucking luck finding shades what don't make you look like a fustian fuckhead."